The Importance of Fairy Fay, and Her Link to Emma Smith
Quentin L. Pittman, esq.
At first glance, Fairy Fay, as the name suggests, does indeed appear to be a
mythical creature, having sprung from journalist Terence Robertson’s inkwell
early in the Autumn of 1950. However, the mystery surrounding this often
dismissed Chapel dweller could be the key to learning Jack the Ripper’s
identity. Fairy Fay was born when, in an article for Reynolds News,
Robertson christened her, “for want of a better name”, and stated she was
the Ripper’s first victim, having been attacked on Boxing Night, 1887.
Inspector Edmund Reid supposedly headed the investigation, but to no avail.
The perpetrator was never caught. From there, her legend grew, when author
Tom Cullen, as quoted here from his 1965, fourth edition of When London
Walked in Terror, wrote Fairy Fay was “the rather whimsical name the press
gave to the unidentified woman whose mutilated body was discovered near
Commercial Road, on the night of Boxing Day, December 26, 1887.” Cullen
reprinted Robertson’s suggestions that Fairy Fay was killed after midnight,
upon leaving a Mitre-square Pub, while taking a shortcut home. But as for
the actual location of the alleged crime, Cullen merely states “in the dim
warrens behind Commercial Road she was struck down and carved up by an
unknown assassin.”
But as Nicholas Connell and Stewart Evans suggest in their highly
recommended, The Man Who Hunted Jack the Ripper, Robertson’s Fairy Fay was
probably a conglomeration, originally based on Lillie Herbert and Margaret
Hames (or Hayes, as The Times identified her). As for Lillie Herbert, alias
‘Tot Fay’, read Connell and Evans for further elaboration on this colourful
woman, as I will dwell solely on Hayes. From the inquest into the death of
Emma Smith, The Times, on Monday, 9th April, 1888, reported Hayes, who
lived at 18, George-street, Spitalfields, where Emma Smith lived as well,
“deposed to seeing Mrs. Smith in company with a man at the corner of
Farrant-street and Burdett-road. The man was dressed in a dark suit and wore
a white silk handkerchief round his neck. He was of medium height, but
witness did not think she could identify him.”
Later, during the same day of the inquest, The Times quotes Hayes further
stating:
“... she had last seen Emma Smith between 12 and one on Tuesday morning (3rd
April, 1888), talking to a man in a black dress, wearing a white
neckerchief. It was near Farrant-street, Burdett-road. She (Hayes) was
hurrying away from the neighbourhood, as she had herself been struck in the
mouth a few minutes before by some young men. She did not believe that the
man talking to Smith was one of them. The quarter was a fearfully rough one.
Just before Christmas last she had been injured by men under circumstances
of a similar nature, and was a fortnight in the infirmary.”
As Connell and Evans state, from this attack, Hayes sustained face and chest
injuries, and was then admitted to the Whitechapel Infirmary on 8th
December, 1888, being released on 28th December, 1888. Seemingly, this
testimony would appear to be the foundation for the alleged Boxing Night
victim, with Hayes’ George-yard residence being one block east of
Commercial-street. As for Cullen’s assertion Fairy Fay was “carved up”,
perhaps this was his own “rather whimsical” embellishment of the chest and
facial injuries Hayes’ sustained. What is definite is that for the period
alleged, Christmas 1887, no viable record outside the attack on Hayes
exists, which legitimately matches Cullen or Robertson’s victim.
Furthermore, there were no mutilated corpses found during this period, and
records indicate Robertson’s claimed inquest into the Fairy Fay atrocity is
wholly fictitious.
As we know, the only witness testimony to the actual assault of Emma Smith
was from Smith herself. Approximately four to five hours after Hayes had
last seen her in Limehouse, Smith appeared at her George-yard dwellings,
well brutalized. She had been beaten, and as London Hospital’s house surgeon
George Haslip confirmed, her peritoneum was ripped. In this dazed condition,
after losing a fair amount of blood, Smith told witnesses, as told by the
lodging house’s deputy keeper, Mary Russell, “she (Smith) had been set upon
and robbed of all her money.” The culprits were said to be “three men, but
she could not describe them.” At hospital, Smith had further alleged to
Haslip that one of the three men “was a youth of nineteen.” Furthermore, en
route to London Hospital, Smith had pointed out where the attack had
occurred, which was outside the Taylor Brothers Mustard and Coca Mill, at
the corner where Brick-lane, Osborne-street, Old Montague-street, and
Wentworth-street converged. (From the Saturday, 7th April, 1888 inquest into
the death of Emma Smith, as reported by The Times, on Monday, 9th April,
1888.)
While it is well established that extortion gangs, particularly the Old
Nichol gang, roamed the area, I find certain things regarding Smith’s
assertions troubling. First, the motive of robbery is suspect, although said
gangs existed. Clearly, three men could have easily overpowered the
forty-five year old woman and taken whatever meagre earnings she possessed
without doing such damage to her. While this is supposition, for such acts
of violence did occur, it would seem such a beating would have rationally
ensued if she had no money to give them, as we shall see, but this is not
what Smith stated. Likewise, the location of the crime is suspect. This
corner, indeed the area outside the Mill, was well patrolled, with a night
watchman on duty. And yet, as Chief Inspector West stated during the Smith
inquest, no constables on that beat had seen any signs of such a
disturbance. While a patrolling constable may have passed a collapsed woman
once or twice, or missed an altercation, it is indeed a stretch to imagine a
beaten and bleeding Smith being missed repeatedly for several hours,
especially when constables had strict orders to usher loiters along.
Therefore, maybe the attack occurred later than the one thirty Smith
alleged, and likewise, closer to her lodgings. Nearby George-yard, where
Martha Tabram was later attacked, is a strong possibility. Thus, both the
location and story may have been invention. As well, there are the common
denominators to consider. Smith’s age, appearance, and profession fall into
the general category of women attacked. Additionally, the locations of the
wounds she sustained are worth noting, as is the fact she was attacked on a
holiday weekend. Finally, the idea for her story may have generated from her
association with Margaret Hayes, who received such a beating in December.
But why would Smith lie?
Possibly for the same reason Ada Wilson, a Mile End prostitute, lied about
her attack the month before. Wilson invented a story that while home alone,
she heard a knock, answered the door, and found a man there, who
subsequently forced his way in, then demanded money. After receiving none,
the man cut her throat. Wilson’s tale purports a robbery gone awry, yet
strong evidence contradicts it. For Rose Bierman, lodging at number 9,
Maidmans-street, is quoted in The Eastern Post & Chronicle, Saturday, 31st
March, 1888, as saying:
“Ada Wilson, the injured woman, is the occupier of the house, but at the
time of the outrage she was under notice to quit. I knew Mrs. Wilson as a
married woman, although I had never seen her husband. Last evening she came
into the house accompanied by a male companion, but whether he was her
husband or not I could not say. She has often had visitors to see her, but I
have rarely seen them myself, as Mrs. Wilson lives in the front room, her
bedroom being just at the back, adjoining the parlour. My mother and I
occupy two rooms upstairs.”
Why would Smith lie then? Possibly for the very same reasons Wilson lied -
pride and appearance. Being robbed was one thing, but admitting you were an
unfortunate, and your client had savagely wounded you was quite another
offence altogether.
To wit, I have made some suppositions, but given the scant details available
regarding the Hayes and Smith incidents, we will probably never know more
than the aforementioned. However, when considering these events, perhaps now
one can understand why some members of the police at that time, including
Walter Dew, considered Smith to be the Ripper’s first, true victim. While I
am leery of projecting modern ideas on past events, if we cast our present
understanding of sexual killers on these crimes, and consider the Smith
incident in relation to the area’s other attacks, then there is a strong
possibility that Jack the Ripper’s first victim was not Mary Ann Nichols.
Generally, this type of killer “builds” from bodily assault to murder, and a
pattern of “building” behaviour can be established. See Ressler, Robert, Ann
Burgess, and John Douglas, “Sexual Homicide: Patterns and Motives”, Free
Press, 1988, for more in-depth details. If this is true of Jack the Ripper,
then perhaps the killer began not in August, but in February, with the
awkward, unseen attack on Annie Millwood in White’s-Row. Then in March, he
ventured to Mile End, where coincidentally Annie Millwood was recuperating
at the South Grove Workhouse, and attacked Ada Wilson. After a narrow
escape, he then returned west, to his epicentre, where in April he crudely
attacked Smith. Seen in this context, the killer, while learning his craft,
would be exhibiting a natural escalation, which he further refined in a
frenzied, early August attack on Martha Tabram. This attack was within
yards, if not in the same location, as the Smith incident. By the time of
Nichols’ death, on 31st August 1888, he had become a phantom, killing
machine.
I would not say these postulations are definitely what occurred. However, I
do believe these are reasonable possibilities, which may offer a key to
identifying our perpetrator. During the months of May, June, and July, 1888,
no such attacks occurred. Why? Most persons concentrate solely on the
absence of crimes in October, 1888, but during these summer months, there
was no increased police presence or patrolling vigilantes to contend with.
Perhaps our man, during the summer of 1888, was not in a position to commit
such offences in this area? Given the cyclic nature of these crimes, both
before and after Tabram, the theory that the killer may have been in jail,
hospital, or abroad during that summer may be more plausible than he simply
stopped for three months. Is it not possible as well that such a person
could have been detained in some manner for both the summer and October of
1888? Alas, more questions, and more records to examine, but I do think the
importance of Fairy Fay is clear.
In many ways, she completely embodies the Jack the Ripper saga. Fact and
fiction have been woven together for so long, that certain aspects of this
mystery are now completely taken for granted when perhaps they should not
be. If, however, we continue to research these crimes, and all of the
genre’s facts and archetypes, someday we may inadvertently stumble upon that
coveted grail. For as Walter Dew believed, someone, somewhere, shared this
killer’s guilty secret - now let’s just hope they wrote it down!